Rethinking Eden's "Villain": Was it Cosmic Treachery or Sacred Teaching?

Photo by David Clode on Unsplash

A Tale Retold

Adam and Eve live in the Garden of Eden. They live in a bubble of protection, provided for, cared for, and unaware of any challenges, worry, or strife in their world. They have little awareness of themselves.

One day, Eve encounters the serpent. The serpent asks her, "Did God really say, 'You must not eat from any tree in the garden'?" The woman responds: "We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but God did say, 'You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.'"

The snake says, "You will not certainly die. For God knows that when you eat from it, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."

Now, Eve checks out that Tree of Life in the middle of the garden and thinks, hey, those apples do look good. She also liked them because they were "desirable for gaining wisdom." She takes a bite and likes it. She offers it to her husband.

They are suddenly aware. They are aware of who and what they are, and their nakedness—in other words, their vulnerability. They did not die—but they were now more vulnerable to dying.

They make coverings to hide their vulnerability. When God understands what they have done, he curses them and drives them from the Garden.

Traditional Interpretations

Myths aren't meant to be purely literal—they are ways of using words to describe indescribable things, things our souls and psyches can intuit and feel but never quite grasp. This myth is typically cast as one that describes our so-called original sin.

In mainstream Christian theology, the story represents humanity's first sin and the fall from divine grace. The serpent is thought to be Satan or an agent of evil, and Eve's action creates a stain that Christian doctrine believes is inherited by all of us poor wretches. This interpretation puts the emphasis on human disobedience and the need for redemption through Jesus Christ's later sacrifice.

Jewish scholarly interpretation, particularly in rabbinical tradition, sees it as humanity's transition from childlike innocence to moral responsibility. The Talmud and Midrash often focus less on the concept of inherited sin and more on the story's lessons about free will and choice. Some Jewish mystics, particularly in Kabbalistic traditions, even suggest that the "fall" was a necessary step in human spiritual development.

Islamic tradition, from the Quran's telling, views the story differently yet again. While accepting that Adam and Eve disobeyed God, Islamic theology rejects the idea of original sin. Instead, the story demonstrates human weakness but also God's mercy—after Adam and Eve repent, God immediately forgives them. Like the Christian version of the story, the snake is typically identified with Iblis (Satan), but the emphasis is on our ability to resist temptation and seek forgiveness rather than on inherited guilt.

The Historical Context

But!

No archetypal myth emerges out of thin air. Myths are shaped not only by the cultural and political contexts they emerge in but the stories and myths that came before them. When you start tripping down the rabbit hole of a very old myth, you find that it’s a patchwork of myths and ideas that came before, and stretches back farther than human history can trace.

The Genesis version of the story was written down sometime between 950-850 BCE as part of what scholars call the "Yahwist" or "J" source. This time was an intense period of cultural change and transformation. The Israelites were all like “Hey, we want to establish our distinct identity and we want to cut ties and have nothin’ to do with all those polytheists over there,” but that was a hard thing to do given that they lived in the muck of human culture right along with them. It’s like the fish who wants to leave the water. Can’t do it. The rich mythology and traditions of the cultures and spiritual practices that came before still affected and influenced the Israelites deeply, so they needed to find some way to differentiate themselves.

This tension becomes even more intriguing when we consider that in the ancient Near East, where the Biblical narrative originated, snakes held profound spiritual significance. For millennia, the Egyptian uraeus serpent graced pharaohs' crowns as a symbol of divine protection and power. The Wadjet, a cobra goddess, was revered as a guardian deity. In Mesopotamia, contemporary to early Biblical times, snakes represented renewal and healing.

So how did this powerful symbol of protection and renewal become transformed into a scary agent of evil? The answer may be in the symbol itself, but in how religious narratives evolve as cultures encounter and change one another. Or in how cultures overtake, adopt, and use imagery and metaphor for their own use and according to their own beliefs and preferences.

While the snake's role in Eden predates Christianity, appearing first in ancient Jewish texts, its interpretation as purely evil solidified during centuries of religious evolution and the spread of Christianity. When we follow the traces of the story back farther in time, we can still see traces of the serpent's older, more nuanced symbolic meanings.

The Epic of Gilgamesh

In this Mesopotamian epic (c. 2000 BCE), Gilgamesh, the guy with main character vibes, undertakes a grueling quest to find immortality after the death of his friend. He finally gets his hands on a “plant of rejuvenation” from the bottom of the sea, only to have it stolen by a serpent while he bathes. Unlike the Biblical snake who offers forbidden knowledge, this serpent acts as a thief who maintains the natural order— preventing us lowly clay folks from achieving immortality, which would have messed up the cosmic order. After the snake steals and eats the plant, it sheds its skin, a sign of the renewal that Gilgamesh lost.

Here, the transgression isn't eating the forbidden plant, but Gilgamesh’s hubris (read: his big head) in seeking immortality in the first place. The serpent acts not as a tempter, but as an agent of divine will, enforcing the boundary between mortal and immortal realms.

The Garden of Dilmun

In Sumerian mythology, the paradise of Dilmun has an obvious parallel. The goddess Ninhursag creates this paradise where, like Eden, suffering and death are unknown. When Uttu, a resident of the garden, eats from forbidden plants, divine punishment follows. This version differs from the Bible in that Ninhursag eventually relents… and then goes so far as to heal Uttu. It wasn’t eternal damnation and hell for Uttu. He got to see that divine punishment didn’t have to be eternal. It’s a more cyclical view of transgression and redemption.

The Persian First Couple

Persian mythology tells of Mashya and Mashyana, the first human couple, who live in a state of perfect innocence. Ahriman, the evil spirit, comes to them as a snake and convinces them to eat forbidden food. However, after eating, they not only gain knowledge of good and evil but also learn metalworking, hunting, and fire-making. Their "fall" becomes a complex transformation that brings both loss and gain. The snake here acts as a culture-bringer, kind of like Prometheus giving fire to humans in Greek mythology.

Snakes Around the World

It’s not just ancient Middle Eastern cultures that revered the energy of the snake. Cultures from around the world have ancient narratives around the cosmic snake.

Ancient Greece

In ancient Greece, the figure of a snake was closely associated with Asclepius, the Greek God of medicine. The snake and its energy were believed to be benevolent, able to cure a patient or a wounded person just by touch. The snake is also connected with pharmacology and antisepsis, as snakes possess an antivenom against their own poison. The Rod of Asclepius, featuring a single snake wrapped around a staff, remains the symbol of medicine today.

African Variants

In Yoruba tradition, the Divine Python (Ere) is not an adversary but a messenger between heaven and earth. When humans break divine law, the python can serve as a mediator for redemption rather than the bringer of punishment. The transgression in these stories often involves breaking taboos around sacred knowledge, but the consequences typically include ways humans can restore the relationship through ritual and ceremony.

Hindu Traditions

In Hindu mythology, the Nagas (divine serpent beings) have both dangerous and beneficial qualities. They guard sacred knowledge and can either withhold it or grant it to worthy seekers who have proved their mettle. Their role in sharing divine knowledge is often seen as necessary for human spiritual evolution. Transgressions in these stories often involve a failure to show proper respect to the serpent guardians, rather than accepting knowledge from them.

Chinese Traditions

Chinese culture gives us another fascinating take on snake energy. In Chinese mythology, snakes are closely tied to dragons (in fact, some people say dragons evolved from snake legends). One of the most famous stories features a white snake spirit who transforms into a beautiful woman and falls in love with a human man. She's not evil at all—she's the hero of the story, using her powers to help people and fighting to protect her love.

In ancient Chinese philosophy, the snake is often paired with images of transformation. The Yin-Yang symbol itself is sometimes described as two snakes, one dark and one light, curled together in perfect balance. And just like in other cultures, the Chinese saw snakes shedding their skin as a powerful symbol of renewal and rebirth.

North and South American Traditions

In indigenous cultures throughout North and South America, snake figures and carvings show cosmic energy on which many of their stories depend. In Illinois, the Great Serpent Mound stretches nearly a quarter of a mile in length, an ancient earthwork that aligns perfectly with the summer solstice sunset. In Mexico, the Aztec deity Quetzalcoatl, the "feathered serpent," represented wisdom and transformation. The Maya venerated Kukulkan, also a feathered serpent, associated with resurrection and renewal.

In South American traditions, the Amaru holds a sacred place in healing and spiritual practices. The Amaru is believed to carry healing energy through the realms, facilitating transformation and spiritual awakening. Healing traditions (including the one in which I’m training) speak of the Amaru's ability to help humans shed their old patterns and beliefs, much like a snake sheds its skin, leading to healing and personal evolution.

What’s it all mean?

What do all of these stories add up to? Let’s sum it up:

• The Nature of Transgression: While the Bible’s account focuses on disobedience to divine command, most other traditions often frame the "transgression" as a necessary step in our development or evolution. Some versions even suggest that the real transgression would be to refuse the knowledge offered.

• The Serpent's Role: Far from being consistently portrayed as an evil tempter, the serpent appears as:

  • A divine messenger carrying out cosmic duties

  • A wisdom-keeper determining humanity's readiness for knowledge

  • A transformer initiating necessary change

  • A guardian maintaining cosmic boundaries

  • A teacher offering sacred knowledge

• Paths to Redemption: While the Biblical account offers redemption only through future divine intervention that is mostly out of our hands (often interpreted as requiring Christ's sacrifice), many versions include:

  • Direct divine healing (like in the Dilmun story)

  • Ritualistic paths to restoration

  • The integration of new knowledge as its own form of redemption

  • Cyclical patterns of transgression and renewal rather than a single, permanent fall

These versions show us that the relationship between divine knowledge, human growth, and spiritual transformation has been understood in far more varied ways than the traditional Christian interpretation suggests.

A New Way to Think About Snake

Let's assume that the snake was a healer. How does that change the story in Genesis? If the snake is a healer, we might assume it was there for the highest good, to heal and further the progression of the souls of Adam and Eve. The serpent did not tell Eve to eat the apple. The serpent told Eve that what God said was somewhat misleading—she would not immediately die, in fact, although she would die later. The serpent highlighted an energetic truth, and Eve tested it. Eve and her husband became self-aware for the first time and were thrust out of the comfy confines of their pen garden. The search for themselves, to be reunited with god, to become more than what they were yesterday, began in this moment.

If we read this story as an allegory depicting the long, eons-long arc of human development, it shows us that our search for consciousness, our journey toward enlightenment, began in the moment we chose to become aware, to take the courageous step into knowing. Enlightenment isn't linear. On an individual level, the slow march toward enlightenment sometimes requires a downward step (or free fall)—many of them—before we feel the experience of "moving up."

What if this story doesn't show our sin, but our first step toward the quest for enlightenment? The snake, in this light, becomes not the tempter but the initiator—the one who offers the first medicine: the medicine of consciousness itself. And the woman….perhaps she is not responsible for all of man’s troubles, but the one brave enough to take the first step.

Welcome to the Year of the Snake.